


In Which Baz is Clueless, Agatha Has a Date, and Penelope Sees All

by imkerfuffled



Category: Simon Snow series - Gemma T. Leslie
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 06:37:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2722412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imkerfuffled/pseuds/imkerfuffled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon and Agatha are getting ready for their first date and Baz isn’t happy (only because he never saw it coming, of course). Meanwhile, Penelope notices something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Baz is Clueless, Agatha Has a Date, and Penelope Sees All

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Some of y’all might know me from tumblr already, so hey, look, I finally got an account here! I know, I know, took me long enough. Stupid fanfiction.net doesn’t have a Simon Snow category. Anyway, this happens right before that date Simon was telling Penny about… which wasn’t much of a date, honestly, but Agatha said she’d wear her new dress… although she was probably joking about that… Hey, I just wanted to see Baz flustered when he finds out they’re dating. Lets just say they decided to go to dinner first and make it a proper date. Or it’s actually their second date, and you can just ignore everything I said up there.
> 
> It’s sort of Snowbaz with undertones of Baz/Agatha under the ruse of Simon/Agatha. Also a last minute Baz/apple cameo at the end, because I realized there wasn’t one, and that is unacceptable.

There was a girl in Baz’s room. A tall, blond, beautiful girl. This wasn’t unexpected; Agatha Wellbelove frequently hung out near his room with Snow and Penelope. Usually they didn’t spend much time inside the room—not when Baz was around, in any case—but judging by the lack of sickeningly sweet Snow nearby, she was probably waiting for him. So: not unexpected.

What was unexpected was her clothes. Gone were the school-issued blouses and bland trousers. Gone were the jackets and jumpers and cloaks that made Watford students look like faded Christmas decorations (albeit attractive Christmas decorations, in Agatha’s case). Instead she was decked in a brilliant red dress with a simple, flowing skirt, nearly hidden by a thick coat cinched around her waist. Her hair cascaded down one shoulder in an elaborate braid.

Definitely unexpected.

Baz had to shut his mouth before something stupid came out, like “you’re wearing a dress.” It sounded like something Snow would say.

“Hello, Baz,” said Agatha, “Do you know where Simon is?”

“No, I can’t say I do. I try to avoid him at all costs, you see,” he replied effortlessly, while internally his brain short-circuited.

_Why is she in my room?_

_Why is she wearing that dress?_

_Why is she asking for Snow_ while wearing that dress?

He could only think of one possible explanation, but the prospect was simply absurd.

“Why the fancy dress?” he asked in his best offhanded manner.

“Oh, we’re going on a date.”

“Are we really? I’m afraid I’ll need more time to get ready. You sprung this rather suddenly,” he joked. _What! Date?_

“No, silly, with Simon,” laughed Agatha.

“Well if that’s your thing,” he said, “Although, God knows Snow hasn’t had much experience with traditional two-person dating, let alone three-ways.”

“Aleister Crowley, Baz, you’re ridiculous.”

_No, I’m not the ridiculous one. You’re the ridiculous one. You’re dating Snow. How?_

“When did this happen?” _Oops, was that out loud?_

“Um… that’s kind of vague,” Agatha admitted, “Just recently. I don’t want to make a big deal out of it with the school, though.”

“What, a budding relationship between the rich, beautiful heiress and the school’s resident superhero? I can’t imagine why anyone would think that was a big deal. Not at all,” Baz got the strangest feeling that he sounded flustered, and he wasn’t sure why. It was probably just because of the absurdity of the situation, he assured himself. Snow’s crush on Agatha was obvious to all who knew him, but Baz had never imagined it might be requited.

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy?” Agatha teased.

“Of Snow?” he laughed, “Never.” _Lieeees._ But in this particular case, he decided, he was mainly confused.

“Actually,” she continued, serious now, “I’m surprised you hadn’t noticed. You’re usually up to date with all the gossip.”

“I’ve been… busy.” Busy. That was one way of putting it. Thirsty. Starving. Trying not to bite his roommate in the middle of the night (not because he cared about the idiot’s safety, but because he didn’t want the Coven to find out about him. Obviously) But, yes, busy.

Agatha eyed Baz with a look verging on suspicion, and Baz was once again reminded of Snow’s obsessive preoccupation with vilifying Baz and its unfortunate effect on his friends.

“I’m in all advanced classes. I don’t have time for gossip this year,” Baz lied easily.

“So am I,” she said.

Baz opened his mouth for a snappy retort, but before he could say a word, the door swung open on Penelope Bunce and Snow himself.

Well then.

Snow wore the regulation slacks and button down with pride, adding a pale blue sweater vest to the ensemble. A heavy, navy cloak draped over his shoulders and swooshed around his knees, proving once and for all that his complaints that cloaks made him look stupid were completely unfounded. His hair was actually combed back and styled—Penelope’s work, no doubt; Snow wouldn’t know what to do with hair product if it screamed the instructions in his face (Baz had actually seen a brand that did that. He’d considered buying it for his roommate as a joke.)

He looked… nice. It made Baz feel weird.

“What did you do with your hair?” he blurted out. So much for not saying stupid things.

Speaking of stupid things, Snow gaped moronically at him. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my room.”

“It’s my hair.”

“What.”

“What.”

“Hello, Simon,” Agatha cut into their awkward staring contest with a sharp look at both boys.

“Oh!” spluttered the most powerful magician in a hundred ages, “Oh, um… I didn’t see you there.”

Penelope slapped a hand to her forehead.

“You look lovely, Agatha.”

Snow’s lovestruck puppy eyes made Baz want to gag, and he felt like he needed to intervene before the boy did something really nauseating like try to kiss her. Or hold her hand. Or worse, kiss her hand, like one of those gentlemen on the period dramas he liked so much. (Baz most certainly did not watch all of Snow’s Downton Abbey recordings one week when Snow was stuck recovering from his latest heroic escapade. That never happened.) He would definitely have to set some ground rules for girlfriends in their room soon, and make them absurdly strict just to spite Snow.

“So the rumors are true,” Baz drawled, “You really have stooped so low, Agatha.”

All three friends shot him a nasty look.

“You know, Pitch,” Agatha snapped, the polar opposite of her attitude earlier, “I try really hard not to hate you sometimes. Come on, Simon.” And with that, she dragged her new boyfriend out the door, slamming it behind them.”

“Was it something I said?” Baz muttered sarcastically after a few seconds of silence.

Penelope leveled him with her specialty glare that somehow managed to—without fail—actually succeed in making him feel guilty. “Can’t you at least try to not be an ass to Simon? For one night?” she asked, “He was really excited about tonight.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel bad?” It did, because it was Penelope, and she could make a rampaging werewolf feel bad about hurting a kitten during the full moon. Not that Baz would ever admit that.

Nevertheless, she continued staring daggers at Baz through her pointy glasses, refusing to back down under the dark haired boy’s unblinking counter-stare. To show just how unfazed he was, he snatched an apple off his desk and bit into it, never breaking eye contact. After a few moments, however, Penelope’s face morphed into a softer, sneakier, and infinitely more terrifying expression.

“What?” Baz asked warily, the apple hanging forgotten near his mouth.

Suddenly she broke into a wide grin. “ _Someone’s_ got a crush.”

“Yes, your two lovebird friends. It’s disgusting,” Baz willfully misinterpreted, even as his eyes widened in inexplicable panic.

“They’re not the only ones,” Penelope giggled.

“That’s flattering, Penelope, but you know I don’t think of you like that.”

“You’re an idiot,” she punched his arm playfully.

“You’re delusional.”

She continued staring at him with that infuriating grin of hers, and suddenly Baz felt the need to justify himself to her.

“I mean, granted I’d have to be blind not to see how attractive she is, but —” Baz’s ramblings were cut off by Penelope shouting,

“Wait, I wasn’t talking about _Agatha!_ ”

“You think I like _Snow?_ ” Baz choked on his apple, “Oh God. No. Inconceivable. You’re insane. I hate him. Shut up.”

Penelope just grinned even wider and skipped out the door, singing, “You should have seen your face when he walked in!”


End file.
